Mindfulness and Minimalism

From My Heart

Sometimes I wish there was an emotional heart valve. One that I could control and let in only the good things. It doesn’t work that way. My heart is always open and so I feel everything. And when there are many emotionally charged things going on at once, it can feel overwhelming.

Vulnerability.

That’s what it is. I can weep at the drop of a hat lately. Selling my house, packing and moving into a smaller house in a new area, my work routine changing again soon and the anniversary of my dad’s passing.

I feel so exposed emotionally that sometimes I feel as if my heart is beating outside of my chest. It’s been three years since my dad died suddenly. Although he lived a full life for 88 years, his death was a big shock and the grief that followed was incapacitating.

Vulnerability.

My dad was one of ten children and a World War II Veteran. He was fearless, outspoken and even a little rough around the edges. He was able to impact more people in his life on a daily basis than anyone I know, always working for Veterans’ rights. He was “larger than life” and never took no for an answer. He had a big heart and an even greater willingness to forgive. I always admired that about him.

Even though we butted heads at times because I challenged him often and wished he was a little more sensitive, I always knew that he loved me.

My dad was tough and strong and I think my soft and sensitive self made him a little uncomfortable. I don’t think I totally accepted who I was until I no longer judged myself through the lens of my father’s eyes.

I began to embrace who I was and the vulnerability that I was feeling and, rather than look away, I looked inward, perhaps for the first time. I began to dwell less on the past and worry less about the future. That’s where I’d been most comfortable and it was always a welcome distraction from what I was feeling in the present. I knew I had to open myself up and learn how to process what I was thinking and feeling in a healthy way, in a way that would make me stronger.

I asked for help when I needed it and began a journey of self discovery to find out what makes me feel happy, healthy and grounded.

Vulnerability is not a sign of weakness. It requires strength and perseverance to be in that space.

Embracing vulnerability can be terrifying yet life-giving at the same time.

I’m grateful that I’ve had the courage to open myself up to change and the swirl of emotions that come with it.